


bound to you

by kemonomimi



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Kitsune!Ren, M/M, Yukibito!Masato, Yôkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemonomimi/pseuds/kemonomimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ren swore to protect him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bound to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chu/gifts).



It was odd to see the moonlight's pattern on the floor from that angle, from the opposite side of the room from Masato's bed. Normally once night fell he pointedly mulled about in his half of the room and refused to wander across the de facto boundary line where sleek dark wood met tatami flooring. But that night not even the absent observation could distract him for long; he dipped the end of a cloth in a bowl of water kept cool by his breath, and dabbed it gently against the damp forehead of the feverish kitsune. He checked the bandages again, relieved to find that after changing them four times already they remained white. 

Without reluctance Masato lain on his side, dark eyes watching Ren's face for signs of discomfort. Ren's bed was warm, comfortable; the only time Masato had been in it was a week after his arrival to the small, tucked-away dwelling, when Ren had pushed his boundaries and stolen a kiss, his body on top of Masato's pressing him into the mattress. The encounter had been one of two others that kept Masato rooted to his side of the room, though he never felt any fear of Ren. The kitsune always listened to him, always stopped when Masato told him to. But it was better not to tempt him, and it saved the yukibito a bit of verbal teasing. 

But tonight Ren's incorrigible flirtations were the last things on his mind. He was wracked with guilt and indecision, and a hastily-made, very important promise. Mai, Masato's sister had visited earlier. The yukionna had been welcomed so warmly by her older brother, her visitation long awaited. So he asked Ren not to disturb him, and Ren complied. He was always doing that, risking his happiness -- and in this case his life -- to secure the happiness of another. When an enemy had attacked seeking Masato, Ren strove to keep the enemy from the room the two snow demon siblings inhabited and did not disturb them as promised. When Mai finally returned home it was then Masato was alerted of the intruders that had been driven off.. and the state in which Ren was left after the fight.

Masato found himself hastily telling Ren's permanent house guests that he would save Ren's life no matter what. A few hours into the task of trying to break a fever and stop the kitsune from dying from loss of blood, Ichinose had stopped by to check his progress with a suggestion. Masato's power.. it could potentially help heal Ren's wounds faster.

That power… it was a mysterious force, something Masato had not really tested. Every eight hundred years after the passing of the previous carrier, a demon was born with special blood. That blood increased the strength of those who formed a contract with the carrier, which was sealed with a mark on the back of the carrier’s neck. A contact formed between two demons meant they were to be lovers. The mark itself was not enough; intimacy and affection were key components of truly tapping into the mysterious power. If children were born from the union they were often more powerful than other demons, and almost always grew up to lead clans. The contract itself was said to bring prosperity to both clans, and its exclusivity ensured protective alliances around the pair of lovers between their clans. That was the reason behind why Masato was living in Ren’s home, after all; the yukibito tribe had been long fighting against hostile invaders who wanted to expand their territory, and the kitsune tribe was an ideal ally. Many fought for the power, to seal a contract on the carrier. But Ren had mentioned several times that Masato would be safe in his stronghold and that Ren could fight off any opposition with the extra power he granted him.

Though apparently this time it had not been enough.

Seconds ticked by, the kitsune on the bed still and silent as he had been since early that evening. Masato could deliberate no longer.

Ren Jinguji was many things -- a flirt, selfish, rebellious, a deflector of his personal feelings -- but he was also warm and kind and protective and he made Masato smile when he was believed inconsolable, that first week when his father sold him off to be the lover of some idiotic playboy kitsune. 

He smoothed the damp fringe out of Ren's face, cupping too warm cheeks in both hands. One long finger he traced over the curve of closed lips, before he followed his etched path with his own lips. 

At first he was clumsy, inexperienced. But as his determination to help Ren increased and he kept trying, his kisses became more confident, more natural. He didn't even notice at first when Ren began to stir, long fatigued fingers curling in dark blue strands to hold the yukibito against his mouth. 

When their lips parted he opened his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- to find himself peering into eyes the color of the summer sea and a smile that made his heart ache in his chest. He heard the words before Ren even spoke them aloud. “You don’t have to do this,” he reminded him gently, a fragility in his eyes that Masato had learned to pick out amongst the carefully crafted pieces of the kitsune’s mask.

“Quiet,” Masato murmured, stroking his fingers across Ren’s brow, “you protected me, did you not? Now I return the favor.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one met with gentle pressure as Ren engaged him, and Masato found himself leaning into the kiss, into Ren. An indeterminate amount of time passed before they broke apart again, chests heaving. Then they were together again, kissing like their lives depending on it.

It was electric, utterly electric; that was how Masato would describe it later as he peered at his bold calligraphy of the words kiss and affection and love. When they were kissing it was like the entire world was on fire and frozen at the same time, like they were melting their way through the frozen landscape as they engaged in this dance of passions. It was not like the kiss Ren had stolen, it was not like the first kiss Masato had surrendered for the purpose of healing. It was something entirely new, something entirely perfect.

When they parted again for air it was Masato who leaned in again, insistent and demanding for more affection that Ren was all too happy to give. Pale, slender fingers tangled in strawberry blond and tugged, while his mouth descended down Ren’s neck. The sound Ren made when Masato nipped gently at a soft bit of skin piqued the yukibito’s interest and lead to more exploratory kisses, their touches increasing in passionate intensity at a rapid rate.

When exploring fingers slid down sunkissed skin to slick white bandages, however, Masato retracted like he had been stung. Ren was wounded, feverish; this was hardly the time or place to consummate their bond or get caught up in passions. Masato leaned away, an apology on his lips, but it died away and was replaced with protest when Ren began to sit up. But Ren quieted him by reaching for his hand and settling it against the kitsune’s forehead.

The skin was cool to the touch. Not at all like it had been moments ago, when Masato had scarcely been able to keep the fever from consuming Ren. At Masato’s dumbfounded expression, Ren began to unwrap the bandages. Underneath them was skin unmarred by any blade, not the nasty, open wound that had bled too much, dangerously too much, and threatened to scar beautiful skin forever if Ren survived its healing.

“To think, of what that power is capable…”

“This is only a mere sliver of its abilities, Masato. You understand now, don’t you? Why it is so coveted.”

“I do.” He swallowed thickly, eyes still on the spot that he had seen moments ago open and angry and threatening to take Ren’s life. “All those wounds you sustained before, minor perhaps but I could have -- “

Ren shook his head, smiling wryly. “You could have. But it’s fine that you didn’t.” He regarded Masato for a moment longer, reaching out to him. The demon of snow and ice willingly folded into his arms, accepting a soft touch of a long, graceful finger against his lips. “That you came to me like this, when I needed it most...and that you stayed; that is worth ten fold any discomfort I suffered at the hands of those wanting to snatch you away.”

Hours later the door to the bedroom creaked open. A head of dark hair peeked through, and blue eyes took in the scene with an arched, incredulous brow. Tangled in the sheets lie the resting kitsune clan head and the yukibito, resting together in positions that suggest they fell asleep suddenly and unexpectedly, perhaps in the midst of a conversation. But his eyes do not miss the protective curl of Masato’s fingers in Ren’s light hair, or the way Ren’s face is buried against Masato’s shoulder. With a shake of his head, the tengu closed the door on the intimate scene.

Anything he had to tell the couple could wait until the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> i binge-played that voltage mobile game, you know the one. this resulted from that session. written for lora's birthday.


End file.
